A slow, victorious smile spread across her face. She thought she had broken me. She thought she had trained me.
"Thank you, Mark," she said, reaching out to touch my arm. "I knew you'd get there eventually. It really means a lot that you're doing the work to be better for me."
"I am," I said, smiling back. "I'm really seeing things clearly now."
"Good," she said, turning back to her phone. "Gavin will be so relieved. He was worried you'd freak out."
"Tell him not to worry," I said, turning back to the stove. "I'm not freaking out at all."
I wasn't. I was calculating.
I served dinner. I asked about her day. I listened to her talk about how excited she was for Friday, how she had told all the girls that I was taking them to The Vain, how she couldn't wait to see what I had planned for the rest of the weekend.
"It's going to be unforgettable," I told her.
When we went to bed that night, she turned her back to me, texting Gavin good night. I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
At 7:00 a.m. the next morning, she left for work. She kissed me on the cheek, breezy and happy, convinced she had the perfect boyfriend and the perfect side piece.
"Love you," she said. "Don't forget to pick up the dry cleaning for Friday."